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400-Word Stroll, 12/30/16: WAAAAAAITAMINIT!

Posted by on December 30, 2016

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“In-a that great a-getting’-up mornin’, what is that?  What is that?”

Okay, just save it.  I know all about gettin’-up mornin’ creaks, groans and tendons popping, sounding like R2D2 with crossed circuits.  I know all about limp hair skewed every direction at the same time.  Mine usually resembles a Halloween novelty wig somebody found for 25 cents at a garage sale.

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Hey—I’m wondering who came up with that little jewel, “Now, there’s a new wrinkle.” Cute, whoever you were.  Real cute. Gravity must get perverse glee at watching my reaction upon each morning’s  first glimpse in the mirror.  “Honey?  Did we ever have a Neopolitan mastiff anywhere in the family gene pool?”

As I do that, I’m shaking my head in amazement, like an awestruck kid watching a team of Clydesdales do their thing.  God’s  given me another day!  Yeah! Syncopate!  “I just want to celebrate another day of livin’!”

Rats. Missed those stealth whiskers again.  When did those little boogers start growin’ again?

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Waaaaaitaminit.  See, I have this theory.  Whiskers take a long time to mature; fifty or sixty years isn’t uncommon.  Once they do, though, they matriculate to nose and ear hairs.  Then they really start growing. You know.

Anyway, I’m thinking some of them might get tired of being constantly cut off and the public put-downs, deciding to just pack it in and go back to being regular whiskers again. Yeah—like millennial whiskers.   Grown up but not really.  So they show back up where you thought they’d kind of sluffed off growing.  And there you have ‘em:  stealth whiskers.

Note to self: when we get back home, razor.  Get ‘em.  That is all.

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What was the purpose of this silliness?  My contract with my readers is the same as it’s always been:  to lift, encourage, edify and challenge to personal and spiritual excellence.  One way to help do that is to lighten your load of foreboding at what may lie ahead in 2017.  If I’ve done that, putting a grin on your face—yeah, that one—and giving you a few moments to chuckle, I’ve fulfilled a piece of that contract.

© D. Dean Boone, December 2016

 

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